Idiopathic
by yesibelieveinsherlockholmes
Summary: What's wrong with Molly? Sherlock's determined to find out.


Sherlock turned over to warm sunlight. It wasn't often he slept, let alone had a good nights sleep with the things he had seen, but this was one of the few times that he had in fact, had a good nights sleep. Next to him, his petite mousy pathologist snored lightly.

He smiled a little at the soft sound and gathered her close to his body. He was content for a moment till he felt something warm, wet and slightly sticky on his leg. He lifted the covers and immediately identified the liquid. Blood. Molly's blood. Slightly panicked he moved swiftly away from her and threw the covers to the other end of the bed. All of this combined woke Molly.

"Sherlock?" She mumbled sleepily.

"You're bleeding. Are you alright? Do you need medical attention?"

She responded quickly, looking down at the blood, cursing under her breath.

"Shit. Now I've got to do the laundry."

Sherlock was perplexed. Why was she more worried about household chores than the fact that she was bleeding?

He was about to voice this query, when she shooed him off the bed, stripped the sheets off, and stalked off to the laundry.

What had just happened?

* * *

"Molly?" He asked worriedly as she cooked much more bacon than was necessary for the two of them.

"Hush." She replied sharply and irritably. He frowned and tried again.

"Molly. What's wrong?"

He could practically hear her roll her eyes.

"You were bleeding, but you were more concerned about the washing. And now you're cooking quite a lot of bacon. You hardly ever eat even two rashers and you know I'm not going to eat because I'm on a case and-"

"Oh my god, shut up!" She cried.

He bit his lip and looked down at the floor. What on earth was happening?

* * *

The next strange occurrence happened the next day, when he walked into the morgue to her sobbing over the small child on the slab. Taking pity on her, he ushered her out of the room, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

John walked in at that moment, and Sherlock shooed him away quickly.

* * *

"I just don't understand it John, what is happening?"

John laughed. "I suppose you deleted that from your mind palace too."

Sherlock looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean? Is that- is that normal?"

The ex military officer laughed harder. "You did. You deleted it."

"I don't understand."

"Talk to Molly about it."

"I tried asking, but she snapped at me."

John sighed.

"Try being a little gentler."

"But why can't you just tell me?" Sherlock whined like the five year old he was at heart.

"I'll get it wrong. It's better if she explains it."

"Is it a medical condition?"

John rolled his eyes. "Go talk to your girlfriend."

* * *

"Molly?"

A grunt followed by a groan of what sounded like immense pain sounded from under a pile of blankets on the bed.

"What's happening? What's wrong?"

Another groan. "Can you get me a glass of water, two ibuprofen tablets and some chocolate?"

Unsure of why he was being given the slightly strange request, but willing, he sought out the things she had asked for and brought them to her.

After taking the pills and eating about half a block of chocolate she seemed more co-operable.

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" He asked.

"I've got my period Sherlock. Have you never been in the presence of a woman who has her period?" She said slightly irritably.

"I don't know what that means."

She gave him an odd look. "How- whatever. I'm not explaining this to you. Internet. Helpful resource."

* * *

Research had proven useful, however, Sherlock was shocked at the fact that women had to deal with something like that every single month. How can a person bleed from three to eight days without dying or getting extremely sick from blood loss?

Further research had helped Sherlock to figure out how to help her. The next night they spooned on the sofa while watching a movie of her choosing as she clutched a hot water bottle to her abdomen.

* * *

From then on, the medicine cabinet at Baker Street always had ibuprofen in it, the pantry always had at least one block of chocolate, and Sherlock kept a hot water bottle and a pack of tampons in his drawers, 'just in case'. Needless to say, Molly was content that she had the best boyfriend in the world.

* * *

A/N: Plot bunnies. Gotta love them. But hate them. But, oh god I love them. This one just wouldn't hop away, it demanded it be written! Clueless Sherlock is so cute. I hope to update 'Please Excuse My Writing' very soon. Read and review, darlings! Mwah!- Siân


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